Not A Creature Was Stirring
by daisyb10
Summary: When House chooses dinner with Cameron over his traditional Chritmas Eve celebration with Wilson, an argument ensues and Wilson is badly hurt. Will House be able to salvage his friendship with Wilson and win Cameron's love? Rating is strictly to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** **_"Not a creature was stirring …" _**was written for the 2007 Secret Santa Ficathon at HouseCameron.  
It is a story of the two most important relationships in House's life; his friendship with Wilson and his love for Cameron.  
A sincere thank you to my dear friend, **jellybean728**, for being my beta - you're the best!

**My Recipient: niicelaady  
My Challenge: **1. House/Cameron, in new or established relationship, grow closer when Wilson is hurt.  
2. Setting unrelated to work, author's choice.  
3. Cameron learns a secret about House and Wilson's relationship

**Disclaimer:**I do not own House, M.D., or any of its characters, nor do I profit from this story.

**_Not a Creature was Stirring …_**

Chapter 1

_Deck the hall with boughs of holly … Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.  
_'_Tis the season to be jolly … Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la._

"You know … if I hear one more fa-la-la-la-la, I think I'll barf," House grumbled.  
"And what are all these people doing here, anyway? I can hardly move."

Although it was only ten o'clock in the morning, the Princeton Mall was packed to the rafters. The men wended their way through the bustling crowd, finding it increasingly difficult to walk two steps without being rammed by a stroller, kicked by a whiney kid or jostled by a pack of unruly teenagers.

"They're doing exactly the same thing you're doing House," chuckled Wilson.  
"Yea, but did they _all_ have to wait until Christmas Eve to do their shopping?"

Wilson stared at House, astonished by the utter absurdity of his remark.  
"What? I'm a doctor. I was busy saving lives. I have a good reason to be here," House said defensively.

"You and your team haven't had a case for two weeks. You didn't have to wait until the last minute to get Cameron's present."  
"Harrumph," House grumped, while trying to dodge a woman who'd stopped suddenly to answer her phone. "Quit nagging and help me find something nice."

Wilson thought for a moment.  
"You know … all you _really_ have to do to make Cameron happy, is to tell her that you love her."  
House sneered, "You're an _idiot_, Wilson. She knows that already."

"How does she know? Have you told her?"  
"Not in so many words."

All Wilson could do was shake his head. "I'll take that as a 'no'. I don't understand you, House. Chase is gone, you two have been dating, successfully I might add, for a month now, and for some reason she still seems to love you. What are you waiting for?"

"I'm waiting for the right time, do you mind?" challenged House.

"Well, don't wait too long, my friend. Somehow, moments have a way of passing you by."

Wilson sensed House's patience had reached its limit.  
"Okay, no more lectures. Let's get your shopping done so we can get out of here.  
What would you like to buy for Cameron? Clothes, jewelry, perfume, lingerie?"

House's eyes lit up. "I kinda like that last idea …"

Wilson grinned. "I knew that would appeal to you. Follow me."

oOoOo

Wilson sighed with dismay when they reached the entrance to Victoria's Secret.  
It was packed with holiday shoppers; giggling teenagers, frenzied housewives and hapless husbands and boyfriends without a clue what to buy for the women in their lives.

"Maybe we should try another store, House. It's awfully crowded in here. I don't think we'll find anyone to help us, " Wilson suggested.  
"Once again, you underestimate the power of the handicapped. Follow me."

House's cane became a battering ram as he forged ahead, eliciting "ows" and "ouches" from the milling crowd.  
He poked and pushed his way to the front of the store, with Wilson bringing up the rear.

"Excuse me, cripple coming through. Excuse me, mind the cane. Ooops … did I hit you in the shins? I'm so sorry."  
The fact that no one dared to question his rudeness amused House to no end.

"May I help the next person in line?" a saleswoman asked, addressing the throng of customers.  
"That would be me!" House asserted, as he butted in line, oblivious to the dirty looks and curses from the shoppers behind him.

"Yes, sir. How may I help you?"  
"I'd like to buy a Christmas gift for my girlfriend. Something pretty," he said. Then lowering his voice to a whisper he added, "and sexy."

"Certainly. What size is she?"  
"She's somewhere between Keira Knightley and Angelina Jolie."

"Well, how tall is she?"  
"About this tall," House said, holding his hand beneath his shoulder. "Wait a minute … she wears high heels a lot, so she's probably only this tall."  
House lowered his hand.

As a "why me" expression began to cloud the clerk's face, Wilson jumped in. "She's 5'5" and weighs about 110 pounds."  
The clerk breathed a sigh of relief and flashed Wilson a grateful smile before turning to House once more.

"Thank you. And her bust?" she asked cheerfully.  
"A little less than a handful. Wait, does it matter what size my hands are?"

"Do you know her cup size?"  
House stood there for a moment with his hands in front of Wilson's chest, trying to visualize the size of Cameron's breasts.  
"Cut that out!" Wilson shouted, swatting frantically at House's hands. "She's an A or B cup, at the most."

House glared at Wilson. "You shouldn't be looking at Cameron's breasts … they're mine!"  
"Well, they may be yours, but you don't have a clue how big they are, do you?"

"Sure I do. They're … they're … they're …" he said, his voice trailing off to a whisper.  
Wilson shook his head and looked at the clerk apologetically.

"I think that I have all the information I need. Now, what would like to buy for your lady?  
A bra and panties set? Pajamas? A beautiful nightgown, perhaps?"  
"A nightgown," House said decisively.

"That's always a good choice, especially when you're a little unsure of her size."  
"Short or long?"

"Short," House said.  
"Long," Wilson corrected.

"_What now?_" House demanded.  
Wilson pulled him aside and said in hushed tones, "House, you haven't slept with Cameron yet. Don't go nuts buying her see-through nighties and marabou-trimmed baby dolls. That will come later. Go for elegant and classy. Imagine what _she'd_ like you to see her in for the very first time."

House paused, then agreed. "You're right." He turned to the clerk. "I'd like something long, elegant and classy," he said confidently.

"Do you have a favourite colour? What colour is her hair?"  
"Well, I love her in red and she's a blonde."  
_At least I know the answer to one of her questions …_

"Red's very Christmassy, that's a good choice. But if you don't mind, there's a special gown that I'd like to show you first."  
She returned shortly with a chocolate brown satin sheath draped over her arms.

"This gown is the epitome of elegance. It's sleek, sophisticated and _very_ sexy. Notice the spaghetti straps?" she asked, before turning the gown over so that House could see the back. "They're trimmed with Swarovski crystals and criss-cross here in the back. What do you think?"

House licked his lips as he imagined Cameron in the backless gown. "I'll take it!"

"Very good, sir. The colour will look stunning with your girlfriend's hair. Shall I gift wrap it for you?"  
"Yes, please," House replied, very pleased with himself. "See, Wilson? Shopping's not so hard if you know what you're doing."

"I can see that, House. You're_ quite_ the shopper."  
"Thank you," he said, pushing his way out of the store, a pink shopping bag clutched in his hand.

Wilson could only smile.

oOoOo

Two hours and several presents later, House had finished his shopping and he and Wilson were enjoying a late lunch in a small deli restaurant in the Princeton Mall's food court.

"They make a mean Reuben, here," House said enthusiastically, "we'll have to remember this place, huh, Wilson?"  
"Yes we will." Wilson smiled at his friend, amused at his quest for the perfect Reuben.

"What are you smiling about?" House asked suspiciously.  
"Nothing, really. I know it's silly but I can't wait for tonight. What time should I pick you up?" Wilson asked.

House set down his sandwich and took a sip of his beer.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that, Wilson. My plans have changed. I'm not going to be able to go with you this year."  
Wilson's face fell as he asked, "Why not?"

"It's Cameron."  
"Cameron?"

"She came by my office last night before I left, and invited me to over to her apartment tonight.  
She wants to cook a special Christmas Eve dinner for me … you know, do all that girlie stuff …"

Wilson looked down at his plate as he tried to think of a way to salvage their plans.  
"Okay. Hey, I know, we can just postpone things a bit. We'll go after dinner."

House squirmed awkwardly in his seat. "The thing is, Wilson … I want to spend Christmas with Cameron this year. Not just Christmas Eve, the _whole_ thing. We've been getting really close and I think tonight … well, tonight might just be the night, if you know what I mean."

"You think that she might ask you to spend the night with her?"  
"Yea, I do."

"I see." Wilson shoved his plate to one side, his meal barely touched.  
"Awww _geez_, Wilson, don't do that …" House said, his voice dripping with exasperation.

Wilson knew what he meant, but he didn't care. "Do what?"  
"Don't try and pull a guilt trip on me. It _won't_ work!

What do you expect me to do? Choose _you_ over Cameron?" House asked, his brow furrowed, staring at Wilson.  
"_You know what?_ _**I do**__."_ Wilson threw his napkin on the table.

"You could have been honest with Cameron and said we'd made plans.  
_Hell_, you could have even invited her to come along.  
But _noooo_, you just cast me aside like an old, worn-out shoe."

"You know how important this evening is to me, House.  
And then, to add insult to injury, you have the _gall_ to wake me up early, so that I can drive you to the mall, on the busiest _damn _day of the year to do your Christmas shopping."

"I didn't think you'd mind …" House said quietly, astonished at Wilson's anger.

"That's your problem House – _you don't think!_ _You never do! It's all about you, all the time!_  
I don't even know how you were lucky enough to get another chance with Cameron after all the heartache you've put her through over the past three years. You're the luckiest bastard alive to have Cameron even _look_ at you!"

"I _know_ that … that's why I don't want to disappoint her," House exclaimed, leaning forward across the table to emphasize his point.

"But you're willing to disappoint me, aren't you, House?" Wilson said sadly.

House hated guilt.  
It was a crippling emotion, more crippling than his infarction.  
His reaction was to attack.  
To hurt, lest he be hurt.

"I don't know why you're making such a big deal over this anyway.  
You're _Jewish_, in case you forgot. It's _just_ Christmas. We can get together some other time," he hissed.

Wilson stared at House incredulously.  
"I can't believe you said that. You _know _why this is such a big deal for me."

"Oh for cryin' out loud, Wilson, grow up!" House shouted. _**"He's gone! Get over it!"  
**_House knew he had gone too far the minute he spoke.

Wilson got to his feet and reached for his wallet.  
"Maybe you're right, House. Maybe I have been wallowing in my grief for too long.  
I think it's time we _both_ grew up. And we might as well start now."

"Grown-ups pay for their own food and arrange their own transportation.  
Here's a ten," he said, throwing a bill on the table. That's for my lunch. Call yourself a cab, _I'm leaving!"_

"Wilson … I'm sorry … please … don't be mad," House begged self-consciously, aware of the stares they were attracting from the other diners.

Wilson turned to House as he slipped on his overcoat.  
"Ever since I've known you, you've been cruel to everyone who cared about you.  
I chalked it up to your pain, your personality, your insecurity and your loneliness.  
I convinced myself you didn't mean to hurt me, but I was wrong. You meant_ every_ word you said.  
I always forgave you_. But__** that**__ … was unforgivable_."

"As far as I'm concerned, _you can go to hell_ … tell Cameron I wished her a Merry Christmas."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

"That was a wonderful dinner. I _have_ to kiss you."  
Cameron smiled as House's hands encircled her waist. She closed the refrigerator door, then turned in his arms, lacing her hands behind his neck.

"You _have_ to kiss me? You _must_ have a happy tummy," she giggled, as House tightened his embrace.

"The happiest," he murmured, dropping deliciously soft kisses along her neck and cheek.  
"Kiss me, Cameron …" he growled, pressing his lips to hers, her lips parting quickly for his impatient tongue. He probed relentlessly, savouring the moist warmth he so desperately craved.

They broke their kiss as they gasped for air.  
House looked down at Cameron, her eyes darkening with lust, and slid one hand between them.

"Oh, House," she whispered, as an exhilarating warmth began to build between her thighs.  
Barely able to speak, she pressed into him. His lengthening arousal brushed against the soft flesh of her belly.

She smiled at him shyly. "Shall we adjourn to the living room?"  
He nodded.

Wordlessly, she took his hand and led him out of the kitchen.

oOoOo

"Let me turn down the lights, so we can enjoy my Christmas tree."

Cameron's apartment was just as House imagined it.  
Everywhere he looked, there was Christmas. From the clusters of pillar candles, to the miniature village of porcelain houses that graced the mantle above her fireplace, everything was perfect. Just like Cameron.

She nestled beside him on the sofa. House slipped a protective arm around her shoulder.  
"Are you ready?" Cameron asked, a remote control in her hand. "Ta-daaaaa!'

Her radiant face shone with happiness as the lights on her Christmas tree began to sparkle.  
"What do you think? Did I do a good job?" she asked.

House studied the tree.  
Every ornament had been hung with painstaking care, a beaded garland snaked elegantly through the aromatic branches of the Douglas Fir.  
But his heart grew heavier with each passing moment.  
Every burst of light pierced his soul, mocking him, reminding him of his cruelty to Wilson.

"House, what's wrong? Don't you like my tree?"  
"What's not to like," he said flatly, as he stared ahead blankly.

Cameron was shocked at his change of mood, just when everything had been going so well.  
The spark in his bright blue eyes was gone, replaced by grey smoldering embers.

"Something's wrong. You look like you've lost your best friend."  
"I have," House answered cryptically.

Cameron placed one hand on his cheek turning him gently to face her.  
"You're beginning to scare me, House. What did you do today?"  
"I went Christmas shopping at the mall with Wilson and then we had lunch."

"Well, that's nothing to be sad about, is it?" she asked cheerfully, hoping to bring a smile to his gloomy face.  
"I guess not."

"_House …"_ Cameron pushed, trying to remain patient.  
"It's Wilson. We had a fight. A bad one."

"What about?"

House's sigh reflected his heavy heart. He _had _to tell Cameron. The guilt was eating him alive.  
"I need you to promise me that you won't share what I'm about to tell you with anyone."  
"I promise," Cameron said solemnly.

He smiled weakly and nudged her to come closer. He puffed his cheeks as he so often did when he was thinking and began.  
"Do you remember the patient who died from rabies?"

Cameron furrowed her lovely brow as she thought.  
"Yes, I do. It was one of our team's first cases. She had a tuberculoma as well, didn't she?  
I'm trying to remember her name …"

"It was Victoria. Victoria Matson."

Cameron's curiosity piqued. House rarely bothered to learn their patient's names.  
Why did he remember this one?

"It's all coming back now … the woman was homeless, wasn't she? Wilson asked you to consult on her case."  
"That's right."

"It all started the day she died. Wilson's a lot like you, you know," House said, glancing at Cameron. "You both care too much about your patients."

"But there was something special about that case. The way Wilson pushed and fought Foreman every step of the way to make sure she had the best treatment we could give her."

"Anyway, I saw him when he was leaving the hospital. He was wearing rain boots."

"Is that so strange? It was probably raining."  
"It was. But when you drive a car and park in an underground garage, why do you need boots?"  
Cameron shrugged her shoulders.

"You only need them if you're planning to hit the streets.  
And he was.  
I followed him to an old rundown part of town. You know the sort of place I mean. Burnt out street lamps, abandoned houses, security bars over shop windows."

Cameron nodded.

"When I caught up with Wilson, he was sitting on a bench, at the corner of a street, just staring into space. He'd given me hell earlier in the day about prying into his life. But you know me, I couldn't let it go. I started to talk about his family, about how I'd met his parents and his brother, and that's when he told me."

"Told you what?"

"That he had _**two**_ brothers." House paused, as he re-played the conversation in his mind.  
"I asked him why he'd never mentioned it before and he said it was irrelevant … that his brother wasn't in his life anymore."

"Irrelevant? That doesn't sound like Wilson. What happened to his brother?"

"He disappeared. Twelve years ago. On Christmas Eve.  
That street corner was the last place Wilson ever saw him.  
He doesn't know whether he's dead or alive."

"Oh, dear God," Cameron felt ill as she imagined Wilson's heartache.

"Christmas Eve is a tough night for him. We started to spend Christmas together.  
Every year, we go get a tree, fight over decorations and have Chinese food at midnight.  
Wilson spends the night with me and in the morning we'd get up and open our presents.  
_God_, this is_ so_ embarrassing," House said, rubbing his face wearily with his hands.

Cameron's heart swelled.  
_This_ was a side of House she had longed to see.

"Why are you embarrassed?" she asked, rubbing his knee. "Millions of people around the world do the same thing every Christmas. I couldn't be prouder of you than I am right now. But why are you here? You should be with Wilson."

"When you asked me to dinner, I couldn't say no. I wanted to be with you."

"We could have done this tomorrow …" Cameron said softly.  
"I didn't think Wilson would mind, but the truth is I really didn't think about Wilson at all."

Cameron took his hand in hers. "Am I the reason Wilson's upset with you?"  
"Not really," House said, shaking his head. "He actually suggested you join us."

"That would have been nice."  
"It would have been great. But I was selfish. I wanted you all to myself. Anyway, we got into a fight and I said something I shouldn't."

"What did you say?" Cameron asked, fearing his answer.

House swallowed hard, as he tried to muster up the courage to confess his shame.  
"I told Wilson that he should grow up. That his brother was gone and that he should get over it."

"Oh Greg … "

The fact that Cameron used his first name with such disappointment in her voice broke House's heart. She couldn't even look him in the eye. He touched her shoulder and she turned to him, her face stained with tears.

"You have to fix this."  
"I don't think I can. He told me to go to hell. I've _never_ seen him so upset with me, and now you are too," House stroked her cheek sadly, "I can tell."

Cameron walked to her hall closet and got his coat, then waited by the door.  
He knew it was his cue to leave.

"Will you ever forgive me? Have I ruined everything?"

Cameron kissed him gently on the cheek.  
"It's not my forgiveness you need, my love. Go find Wilson … before it's too late."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"_I dedicate this house to the Griswold Family Christmas." _Click.

"_Look, Daddy. Teacher says, every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings." _Click.

"_Give me one reason, one good reason, why we should spend our last 2 hours in Florida looking at the sister's of Freckle-Face Haynes, the dog-faced boy." _Click.

"_Faith is believing when common sense tells you not to. Don't you see? It's not just Kris that's on trial, it's everything he stands for. It's kindness and joy and love and all the other intangibles." _Click.

"_No! No! I want an Official Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle!"_

Click.

Click. Click. Click.

"Hmmm," Wilson sighed. "I guess that rules out television for tonight." He tossed the remote control aside and twisted the cap off his beer. "I'll try the newspaper," he said, stretching out on his bed, where a pristine copy of The New York Times awaited his perusal.

"Well, _this_ is helpful. 'How to Choose the Perfect Christmas Tree'," he read, then turned the page.  
"Are LEDs the Wave of the Future?"  
"A Survival Guide For Last-Minute Shoppers"  
"What Your Christmas Tree Ornaments Say about You"

"Is there no escaping this hell?" Wilson muttered, grabbing the sports section for some much needed relief.  
He sat up suddenly, startled by the thud of wood hitting wood.

"Wilson, are you in there? It's me … House." Wilson sat very still, hoping House would go away.  
"I can hear you breathing in there, Wilson …c'mon, open the door."

He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, then reluctantly rose to answer the door.

"House! To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" Wilson said, his voiced laced with sarcasm.  
House knew he deserved it and said nothing. He studied the gaudy tones of the faded floral carpeting in the hotel's hallway, then looked up at Wilson. "May I come in … please?"

Wilson stepped back and gestured for him to come in.

"Whatcha been doing?" House asked.  
"Just watching a little television and reading the paper. How about you?"

"I was over at Cameron's. We had dinner. Roast beef. It was good." House wandered about the room aimlessly, then sat in a chair.  
"How's Cameron?" Wilson asked, trying desperately to think of something to say.

"She's good. At least she was."  
"What's wrong?"

"She's pretty disappointed in me. I told her about our fight. She sent me over here to patch things up with you."  
"It's too late, House. You went too far this time," Wilson said quietly.

"I know. I came to apologize. I should never have told you to get over your brother. It was thoughtless and cruel. I'm sorry."

Wilson had never heard such a heartfelt apology from House. If was he was acting, it was truly an Oscar-calibre performance.  
"I accept your apology, House. You should go back to Cameron now."

"Can't. I have to go buy a Christmas tree. Wanna come with me?" he asked hopefully.

Wilson sat on the bed, opposite House's chair.  
"Look House, I meant what I said. I accept your apology, but that doesn't mean I want to be your friend. I can't. I'm sorry."

House rested his head on the crook of his cane. "I see. I guess that's a no." House limped to the door.  
"I know I hurt you Wilson, but if you can't find it in your heart to forgive me at Christmas, then I guess our friendship is really over."

Wilson couldn't look at House. His eyes welled with tears as he stared out of the window of his hotel room, fighting for composure.  
He'd already lost one brother. He couldn't bear to lose another.

"I suppose we could call Taylor's Tree Farm ..."  
House smiled to himself, hastily wiping his eyes. "I already did. They're still open."

Wilson picked up an empty shopping and began to pack up his gifts, avoiding all eye contact with House.  
"I'll just grab my things and pack a few clothes. I volunteered to work at the hospital tomorrow, but I don't have to be there until two.  
I think we should each take our own car."

"Sounds good. I'll head out now and meet you there. And Wilson …"  
"Uh huh …" he replied, finally looking House in the eye.

"Thanks," House said awkwardly.  
"You're welcome. I won't be far behind."

Wilson watched the door close, then continued to pack. "I should take this …" he said, sliding his newspaper into the bag with his presents. As he did, the TV Guide fell on the floor.  
A painting of a little angel with long blonde hair graced its cover.  
He smiled. _That looks like Cameron_ ….

oOoOo

"Wilson, you'd think after all these years, you could manage to get the damn tree straight.  
It's crooked!" House accused, as he circled the towering pine.  
"It's not crooked! It's you, House! If you would stand up straight, you'd see that the tree's straight.  
You know we have this discussion every year, don't you?" Wilson asked, trying to suppress a grin.

House smiled. "Yea, you're right. We do. The tree looks great. I'll get the ornaments."  
He disappeared into the study and came back holding a shopping bag and balancing two boxes on his free hand.  
"Here, let me take those. I'll start with the lights," Wilson volunteered, as he peered into the shopping bag. "House, _why_ do you do this?"

House returned from the kitchen with two bottles of beer in his hand. "Do what?"  
"Chuck the lights in the bag without coiling them first," Wilson said, holding several tangled strings of mini lights in his hand.

"Dunno, guess I forgot. I should order dinner."  
"I already did. It'll be delivered at eleven. Here, you take a bunch."

"I _hate_ doing this," House said, sticking his tongue out at Wilson.  
"Good. Then maybe you'll do it right this year!"

"Yes, Martha …" he said sarcastically.  
Wilson laughed. "Just untangle the lights."

oOoOo

"Where's our food, I'm starved, " House grumbled.  
"How can you be starved? You already had a big dinner at Cameron's."

"I've been working hard. I'm hungry," House whined, as he sat on the couch watching Wilson light the tree.  
"You've made that abundantly clear. That's why I ordered early."

House flipped open his cell phone. "I'm going to call Wong's and see what the problem is."  
"No!"  
House looked at Wilson, his eyebrow raised.  
"Just give them some time. They'll be here."

"Well okay. I'll give them fifteen more minutes …" he said, setting his phone on the coffee table. "Can we start putting the ornaments on the tree now?"  
"I think we're ready. Do the lights look …" Wilson was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Can you get that, House?"

"Why?"  
"'Cause I'm up on the ladder and _you're not!"_

"So?"  
"_**So?**_ Do you want to eat or don't you?"

"Fine, I'll get it." House pouted and cursed as he limped down the hall.  
Wilson smiled to himself and waited.

oOoOo

"Cameron?" House was stunned.  
The corners of his mouth curled into a soft smile at the sight of her. A dusting of snow covered her bright red Santa hat; her flaxen hair shone beneath the fur-trimmed brim.

"Merry Christmas, House." Cameron said quietly, her eyes twinkling as she spoke. "May I come in?"  
"Of course. I'm sorry. Let me help you," he said, relieving her of some of her parcels and carrying them into the kitchen. "You're definitely prettier than Wong's delivery guy."

"I'm flattered," she laughed, as she slipped off her coat.  
"But, but …" House began. Cameron touched his lips with one finger. "Hush … I _have _to kiss you."

House gathered her into his arms. "You're so beautiful."  
Cameron blushed at the intensity of his gaze.

"Mmmm, this is soft," he said, stroking her arms through her white angora sweater.  
"But not as soft as this."

Their lips brushed gently as they shared a bouquet of kisses. Every kiss was different, every kiss was flawless.  
Their mouths opened as they surrendered themselves to each other, the warmth of their love captured in each delicate touch.

"Cameron?" House began.  
"Yes …"  
"I …"

"I'm _**so**_ sorry!"

"Way to kill the mood, Wilson," House growled, as Cameron disentangled herself from his arms.

"Merry Christmas, Wilson," Cameron said, hugging him warmly, "I can't thank you enough," she whispered quietly.  
"Merry Christmas, Cameron," he said, giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, what's with all this hugging and kissing? Hands off, Wilson. She's mine," House scowled. "No wonder you knew what to tell that saleslady at …"  
"House …" Wilson warned, with one raised eyebrow.

"Saleslady?" Cameron asked. "Did you two go shopping for me?"  
"No, no," they muttered in unison.

"You are the world's _worst_ liars," Cameron said, shaking her head.  
"I think I got everything you ordered. Let's eat!" Cameron carried their meal into the living room.

House stared at Wilson. "Everything you ordered? You arranged this, didn't you?"  
"You two needed a little push," admitted Wilson, "but the rest is up to you."

oOoOo

"Okay, all you have to do is put the star on top of the tree, Wilson."  
Wilson leaned precariously over the top of the ladder and placed the ornament on the tip of the pine, as House watched carefully, his arms wrapped tightly around Cameron's shoulders.

"Is it straight?" asked Wilson.  
"It's crooked," snorted House.

"Is it straight, Cameron?" asked Wilson.  
"It's perfect," replied Cameron. "It's the most beautiful tree I've ever seen."

"Great. I'll put the ladder away before I break my neck, then we can put our presents under the tree and hang our stockings."  
"Can I help with the tree skirt?"

"Thanks Cameron. It's in that box," Wilson said.  
"Wilson …" hissed House. "We can't hang up our stockings."  
"Why not?"  
"I don't want Cameron to feel left out. We don't have one for her."  
"Ah, but we do, my friend."

"I brought my presents from home," Cameron said happily, arranging everyone's gifts under the tree.  
"Here are the stockings. This is mine … House, here's yours … and Cameron, here's one for you."  
"I never expected this, thank you," she said, hugging Wilson warmly.  
They hung the three red stockings from the mantle, each one bearing the glittery initial of its owner.

Wilson took an incredulous House aside. "I stopped at the drug store on the way back from the tree farm. There was a wonderful clerk there.  
She personalized Cameron's stocking and helped me pick out some things for us to give her."

"What did we get?"  
"I bought candy and chocolates, lipstick, mascara, bubble bath, some fancy soap and a magazine. You know, all the stuff girls like."

"Thanks Wilson."  
"My pleasure, House. It's the least I could do. I'm sorry I came between you and Cameron."

"Friends?" Wilson asked, offering his hand to House.  
"Friends," grinned House.

oOoOo

The chimes from House's grandfather clock, heralded the arrival of Christmas!  
The threesome sat in silence, each lost in thought, content and at peace.

"I should go home, " Cameron said softly.  
"No. Stay," urged House.

"If you'll both excuse me, I'll get ready for bed," Wilson said, ducking into the bathroom to give them some privacy.

"Please Cameron, stay, you can sleep in my bed."  
"But where will you sleep?"

"Out here, with Wilson. That armchair is _very_ comfortable."  
"You can't sleep in a chair."

"Have you forgotten how I spend most of my day at work?" House asked with a devilish smirk on his face.  
Cameron couldn't help but laugh. "I'd love to stay."

oOoOo

Cameron tossed restlessly in House's king-sized bed, unable to sleep, despite her fatigue.  
She tip-toed into the living room serenaded by the snores of her two roommates.

"House," she whispered. "House." She shook his shoulder gently.  
"What .." he mumbled, in sleepy confusion.

"Shhhh …"  
"Cameron? Are you okay?" he whispered.

"I need you."  
House followed her into his bedroom, thinking how sexy she looked in his button-down shirt, enticed by her shapely bare legs and the glimpses he stole of her lace-covered bottom. "What's wrong?" he asked, quietly closing the door.

"I'm cold," she said, with a seductive smile.  
"I can turn up the heat," House offered, waggling his eyebrows.

"I bet you can."  
Cameron reclined on his bed, patting the empty space beside her. "Come, be with me."

House hung his cane on the doorframe and quickly rushed to her side. She cuddled against his chest, as he tucked his comforter around them both.  
"How does that feel? Are you getting warmer?"  
"Uh huh. I can't think of a better Christmas gift than lying here in your arms."

House smiled as he ran his fingers lazily over the buttons of his shirt. "I think I can top that …"  
Cameron hesitated. "But what about Wilson, won't he hear us?"

"Wilson? Nah, he sleeps like a log. Damn, I forgot. I'll be right back."

oOoOo

House grabbed his cane, cracked open the door and walked as quietly as he could down the hall.  
He was back in a flash, in bed with Cameron. "Sorry about that …" he said, tucking them in once more.

Cameron knew House was up to something. "What were you doing?"  
"Oh nothing, where were we?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"You were making me an offer I couldn't refuse. What's _that_ on your mustache?"  
"Nothing, why?"

Cameron showered House with tiny kisses, on his lips, cheeks and chin, then lay on her side, with a sly smile on her face, as she licked the milk and shortbread crumbs off her lips.

She rested her head on his shoulder.  
Her eyes glistened with tears as she gazed tenderly at House

"I love you, Santa …"  
"Santa loves you too."

**The End **

**  
A/N:** Thank you for reading "Not A Creature was Stirring ...".  
Wishing you Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas and a Happy and Healthy New Year!  
And for Shrek and House lovers, I'd like to invite you to check out a new story that I co-authored with JellyBean728 ... "A Tale By The Sisters Hameron". 


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